A Man's Dark and Deathly Secrets
by FelesMagica
Summary: Patrick Jane was a mystery. His secrets are well kept, had never once been revealed and weren‘t to ever be. However, one tiny mistake can destroy a perfectly developed construct, leaving his most precious treasure in the dangerous open. Jisbon!
1. prologue

**A Man's Dark and Deathly Secrets**

**Author: **FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Mentalist or any of these characters. Nor do I get money for this story. I just wrote it out of fun and because my muse demanded I did so.

**Summary: **Patrick Jane was a mystery. His secrets are well kept, had never once been revealed and weren't to ever be. However, one tiny mistake can destroy a perfectly developed construct, leaving his most precious treasure in the dangerous open. Jisbon and OCs.

**Genre: **Romance/ Drama

**Warnings:** This story will be AU. Seeing as Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon aren't in a relationship and probably won't ever be, I consider it safe to be AU. Furthermore there will be some smaller and one or two bigger changes in Patrick Jane's family history.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, Jisbon-Fan, for your wonderful help!

* * *

The full force of the sun's bright light hit the Bureau mercilessly. The sky was of a beautiful light blue, with only occasional, small clouds passing by. Through the high windows, the light illuminated the several single rooms connected through solely glass doors and windows. Not even the numerous rolling shutters were able to lighten the burden for the hard working agents in the slightest way.

Grace Van Pelt was sitting at her desk, a hand on her forehead to shield her eyes against the harshly bright sun streams. Her long, copper-coloured hair kept on falling into her eyes, tickling her nose. A long sigh escaped her lips, and her eyes darted restlessly throughout the room.

It had been a strenuous day. In the very early morning, they had been called to a crime scene. The bloodied body belonged to their prime suspect, the one they had been following and observing for the last two weeks. It had come as a surprise to all of them, even Jane that he seemed to have broken under the pressure of suspicion. His good-bye letter indicated that his consciousness was suffering from the brute and horrendous crime he had committed.

That was why he had finally taken his life. It seemed to be very easy for them to solve the case now. They had the corpses, the evidence, and even a confession. Nevertheless, it had taken another six hours before they had finally been able to close the case and start writing their reports. As the suicide had taken them so by surprise, there was a good possibility it had been faked. Therefore, they had to investigate and make sure nothing- really nothing- had been tampered with.

It was a long, rough work, and nobody was looking forward to doing it. Therefore, it was no surprise to them when Patrick Jane had bid them good-bye so he could have a look around the crime scene and interrogate some neighbours. Grace struggled to suppress the good-hearted snort daring to escape her lips. Yes, Jane sure was a special one.

He would never be caught in a situation compromising his position, nor would he ever be one of those to kneel deep into a case. Yes, he did his work and he did it good, but Jane just wasn't the one to ever get physically active. He would stand there, observe the landscape and the people's interaction, question them and research some strange and obscure theory of his, but God forbid he did something strenuous. No, that just wouldn't do.

A worried frown found its way to Grace's face, her forehead creased with worry. Though Patrick Jane was always one to act weird and out of character, the last few days had been different. His normal carefree smile and his smart-ass attitude had been replaced by silent contemplation and a worried frown on his face. More than usual he would just stand in front of one of the big windows, looking outside, not really seeing anything out there, nor realizing what happened behind his back.

She had asked her boss Teresa Lisbon whether they should do something about it. Like ask their shrink to talk to him or get him some days off. Lisbon had contemplated the ideas very carefully, but since they didn't know what was wrong with him - and more precisely whether there was something wrong at all - she told her team to let it be and give him some much needed personal space, but to also keep their eyes open should his state of condition change or worsen.

So that was what she was doing right now.

After they had returned from the crime scene, Jane had been sitting in his office. After lots of arguing and persuading, Lisbon had been able to convince the boss to provide Jane with his own office. He was, after all, a full member of their team and therefore earned himself this small luxury. But what had convinced their boss even more was the prospect of Jane working in his own personal four walls instead of strolling around the building, disturbing everyone who passed his way. No, with his own office, Jane would be kept inside, only to come out of it if called or when he needed something.

It would save them so much time and unnecessary stress.

For the few last hours Jane hadn't left his office. It wasn't as if she was observing or even spying on him, but from her place Grace could see directly to him. His rolling shutters at the facade were only slightly closed so most of the light was able to enter, but without the biting force to hurt the eyes. To keep the others from disturbing him, Jane had closed the rolling shutters leading to the corridor completely, although the ones connected to the other offices were only half closed so Jane would still be able to see what was going on outside.

As much as knew she should be thankful Jane hadn't done much more than sitting in his office (sometimes talking on the phone, sometimes writing something with his computer) it disturbed her much more than she was willing to admit. Jane wasn't one to do nothing. He was always active, talking, searching, plotting, or just getting on his team members' nerves. For him to just do nothing was as foreign as for Lisbon to admit defeat and fault.

Such things just never happened. They weren't meant to happen.

"Excuse me, Miss. Could you tell me where I can find Mr. Jane?"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, startling Grace immensely. She had been so absorbed with her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the person entering the building and stopping in front of her desk. Inside her head she scolded herself. Had this been an observation and had the person standing right in front of her been a killer, she would be dead right now. But seeing as she was still alive, she had to suspect and conclude that the person wasn't here to shoot her.

Yet.

A small blush spread slowly over Grace's face as she looked up to the person standing before her. She hadn't even heard the question, only heard the voice talking to her, so how was she supposed to even answer it?

"I'm sorry, but could you please repeat your question? My mind was elsewhere."

The smile she received was strangely familiar, though Grace was absolutely sure she had never seen this woman before. It was a dazzling smile and if Grace hadn't been a woman and straight to the core, she knew she might have fallen for the young woman instantly.

"No problem, Miss. I sometimes suffer from the same thing. I wanted to know whether you could show me the way to Mr. Jane's office or tell me where to wait for him, shouldn't he be there. I have quite some time, so waiting won't be a problem."

During the young woman's speech, Grace took the liberty to observe her. She was small, just seeming to reach the one meter sixty-five. Amazing, big, light blue eyes were watching their surroundings with undivided attention; her nearly hip long, light blond hair was falling down her back with light waves. Only a light tan adored her skin, but Grace knew that due to her eye and hair colour, this lightly pale tone was probably the best she could do.

With more than a little envy, Grace's gaze fell onto the young woman's figure. The anthracite grey knee long suit, combined with the purple blouse, was hugging her nice figure perfectly. A dark purple shawl was bound around her slim neck in a fancy knot. Together with her elegant make-up, her perfectly kept nails, and her dark grey high heels, the young woman could have been an attorney or manager of a big company.

But still, even when Grace knew with utmost sureness that she had never seen her before, she felt as if she knew her.

"Waiting won't be necessary, Miss. Mr. Jane is currently in his office. It's just the one opposite of this room. His name is written on the door, so you won't be able to miss it. Just knock before you enter and everything should be fine."

A grateful smile and a small nod greeted her information. With a final "Thank you," the woman straightened up and turned around. The office was just mere meters away, but the woman kept her slow pace. It even looked as if she was deliberately walking slowly, as if she was trying to play for time.

It was all too strange.

When she looked to her left, she could see Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby looking at the young woman with open wonder and confusion. It wasn't a normal thing to happen. Who ever came by the CBI Bureau was a member of one of the teams or was here to be interrogated. But to come by for a visit?

"Who is this woman, Grace?"

Teresa Lisbon had left her office just in time to see the young woman finish her chat with Grace and walk over to Jane's office. She was standing there, hand ready to knock, taking final deep breaths. She looked nervous, as if standing there and being about to enter was just too much for her.

Feeling her boss's stern gaze on her, Grace's cheeks turned a nice shade of pink. In her confusion, Grace had forgotten the most important thing ever: to ask for the visitor's name and identity. Oh, her boss would have her head. Such a mistake was to never happen.

"I don't know, boss. I forgot to ask. But I can tell you why she came here. She wants to speak with Jane."

The eyebrow rose in confusion and burning interest, combined with the stern and level glare, was all that greeted Grace's words. She could literally see the slating she was going to receive later. But this could wait. Lisbon was obviously more interested in what the young woman was doing here. Turning around, she just hit the moment where the young woman knocked on the door, waited a bit and then entered tentatively.

The decision was made sooner than anyone expected her to. Taking Grace by her arm, Lisbon pulled the unresisting woman over to Jane's office. She was going to find out what this woman wanted from their consultant, and she was bringing a witness, just in case she might need her. This woman had been acting quite suspicious. Normally everyone referred to Jane as Agent Jane. If she hadn't made this small but important mistake, she must have known he wasn't a real agent, a piece of information only few and privy person possessed.

With soft, small steps, the two women went to Jane's office. They stopped next to the completely shut rolling shutters so Jane wouldn't be able to see them but they would be able to hear him through the slightly open door and see him through the other, only half closed windows. Carefully, so Jane and the mysterious young woman wouldn't see them, the two women edged closer.

Jane hadn't noticed his visitor yet. His head was bent, making his short, blond curls fall lightly into his face. Stacks of paperwork were scattered around him, some filled in, some void of any personal work. The phone was shut of so nobody would be able to disturb him.

As the sun was shining so forcefully into the small room, the two women spying on Jane were invisible in the shadows. From their spot outside the office, they could see the young woman slowly and especially carefully etching closer. They couldn't see her face, but from her posture they could notice how stiff and nervous she had to be.

Suddenly fear gripped Lisbon's heart. She didn't know why, but the prospect of a beautiful, young woman wanting a personal meeting with Jane was a terrifying thought. Only God knew what she was about to tell him.

A small, fond smile etched over the visitor's lips, only intensifying Lisbon's fear. Was she a lover? His girlfriend? Or even his ex-girlfriend? With news about her unexpected pregnancy? She would catch him, Lisbon suddenly knew, she would catch him and take him away. From California. From the CBI. From the team. And, most importantly, from her.

She was so caught up in her horrifying fantasies and thoughts that she nearly didn't notice how the woman carefully placed her small hands on Jane's desk, leaning a little bit further. Her long blond hair was falling freely over her shoulders, hiding most of her face in process. And so Lisbon couldn't see her face to make out what emotion was written on it, the clearer she could detect the fondness and deep love in the young woman's voice.

"Hey, Dad. Long time no see."

* * *

**A/N:** This is my very first try at a Mentalist-fanfiction. So please, be nice and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism and reviews really appreciated, but please don't leave any flames.


	2. Chapter 1

**A Man's Dark and Deathly Secrets**

**Author: **FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Mentalist or any of these characters. Nor do I get money for this story. I just wrote it out of fun and because my muse demanded, I did so.

**Summary: **Patrick Jane was a mystery. His secrets are well kept, had never once been revealed and weren't to ever be. However, one tiny mistake can destroy a perfectly developed construct, leaving his most precious treasure in the dangerous open. Jisbon and OCs.

**Genre: **Romance/ Drama

**Warnings:** This story will be AU. Seeing as Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon aren't in a relationship and probably won't ever be, I consider it safe to be AU. Furthermore there will be some smaller and one or two bigger changes in Patrick Jane's family history.

* * *

"Hi, Dad. Long time no see."

Had Lisbon been holding something in her hands, she would have dropped it immediately. It couldn't be true, her mind screamed at her, this had all to be nothing more than a sick joke. Her focus suddenly became fuzzy as her world started to sway. A buzzing sound started to wipe out each possibly noise. She couldn't hear Grace's sharp intake of breath at Jane's unwanted confession, she couldn't see the shock and obvious worry plastered on the young agent's face, but she could clearly see Jane's soft and fond smile and his light and carefree laughter.

"Alyssa! What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to fetch you at your school. Did something happen?"

There was so much worry in his voice. Gone was the always carefree and joyful smile, his teasing glint in his eyes. He was worrying for her, so much more than he had ever done for anyone of her team. It broke Lisbon's hearth and nearly brought a small wave of tears to her eyes. For two years had she tried to teach him the art of serious behaviour and though she had to admit she had been quite persuasive and creative in her actions, Jane had always been able to resist her. And now there was this young woman and all she had to do was stand there and Jane would become serious and worried? It wasn't fair.

"No, Dad. Everything is fine. Believe me. Would I stand so casually here if it were otherwise? You remember the semester ending party I wanted to attend? The one I thought was supposed to be at our campus? Well, figured it wasn't there but in a huge country house nearby. So when the party was over I asked one of my year mates to drive me to the city for a sight seeing tour. And well, that is why I'm here now."

Outside she felt Grace tense behind her. Her big eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the young man and the even younger woman standing before him. It was just too incredible. Jane, the always egoistical, self-caring and unbothered Jane had a nearly grown up daughter and a nice one as it seemed. It just wasn't fair. She could feel her hearth break because of misery and strangely rejection. With Jane having a daughter, there was no way in heaven he might take interest in her sometime in the future. The way he looked at her, she could be sure of one thing with utmost certainty.

His daughter would always come first.

"So you were sitting in a car alone with one of your year mates? A male year mate that is? Do I know him? What's his name? Did he look at you the wrong way or did he even touch you? Because if he did, I might have to quit my job here due to problems with the law. I don't think they would take too positive on me hunting down and torturing young male students."

She didn't want to hear it. The gentleness in his voice, filled with caring and deep fatherly love, the concern shining brightly in his blue eyes, the way his eyebrows knitted together in confusion and thoughtfulness. He was caring, so damn caring, like a real father should be. She had never believed it before, but all the neighbours she had spoken to had been telling her that Jane's wife was to be envied. He had been the perfect husband and gentleman, always placing his family's wellbeing over his. There had been just one time he hadn't and this was the one thing he had paid dearly for.

For the last two years, she had scoffed at the mere thought. Jane? A caring husband? A devoted father? Placing his family's wellbeing over his? They must have confused him, she had been thinking. They must have confused Jane with some real caring father. There was just no way in hell that he could have acted like this.

Or so she had thought.

But now, with his daughter, the one true and cruel evidence for his love, standing in front of him, a mock scowl on her beautiful face, as she told him to let her poor year mates in peace, to have faith in her, Lisbon's faith started to crumble. She could hear it and most importantly could see it. Jane had another side to his person, a side he had been hiding very well and with utmost perfection.

The side of a caring father and husband.

Lisbon took a long, deep breath before she straightened her shoulders and turned around. She could see Grace stare at her with pity, sorrow and clearly something akin to worry, though as soon as the young woman noticed her boss was looking at her, she tried to hide it. Trying in vain to fight against the growing hearth ache and the beastie, little demons eating away her happiness, Lisbon slowly walked over to where Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby had been watching the interaction and happenings with clear confusion on their faces.

She couldn't take it anymore. For the last few weeks, walking around Jane had been pure torture. It started like walking on eggshells, but soon turned into walking in glass pieces. Every time she saw him, her hearth would beat a little faster and a small, but queasy feeling would spread through her stomach. Her breathing would become slightly laboured and concentrating would become more difficult. She didn't like what was happening to her, that Jane of all people was making her feel this way. But as soon as she was alone at home, the feelings would change. Normally she was quite content living alone and in peace. But somehow, the last few weeks it had become more difficult. More than once, she found herself waking up feeling alone and depressed. It was too lonely in her house, no other sound besides hers could be heard, no other human presence ever graced her. It was depressing and it was taking her down.

"I will go home guys. It's been a long day and there is nothing left to do. Case closed, paperwork finished and no new case to work on. Get some rest, you clearly earned it."

Taking her things from her desk and laying her cloak over her arm, Lisbon turned around to look at her team, forcing a small, fake smile on her lips. Hadn't the light been shining so brightly and had they all taken a better look at Lisbon, they would have noticed the tears daring to escape her eyes. Unseeingly her lip was trembling, as were her hands, when Lisbon shortly looked back to where Jane was sitting in his office, talking to his… daughter.

"Someone please inform Jane that he is free to go whenever he wishes. So, have a nice free day and be back tomorrow on time. Bye, guys."

With that, Lisbon turned around and all but fled the building. Her voice had started to crack lightly at the end of the sentence. Scolding herself for her lack of self-control and her fragile state of mind, Lisbon went to her car. She would go home, she would change into something comfortable, then she would raid the fridge, eat something absolutely unhealthy but greasy or sugary, watch a movie and at some time during this, she hopefully would drift of into sleep due to all her crying or her lack of movements.

But while was at it, she could seriously think about why the thought of Jane being bound to another person not only due to love, but due to blood, was aggravating her so much she was seriously considering taking ill for the whole next week.

It sure wasn't healthy.

* * *

At five o'clock in the morning, Lisbon found herself in her car waiting in front of Jane's house. Unbeknown to her she was just copying Jane's behaviour. Not that she had planned to arrive here, but she had anyway. Restlessly had she been driving around, not really realizing where she was driving. It was a real wonder she hadn't hurt or killed anyone in the process, as she clearly could not remember how she exactly arrived at Jane's place.

She hadn't planned to even leave her home for several days. Her hearth had been aching so much the moment she arrived at home, she thought it might brake. The silence that had greeted her, the loneliness accentuated by the shut down lights and all the closed doors. Nobody was there, no one to ask her how her day had been, no one would smile at her lovingly, no one would be there to surprise her by making dinner or by taking her out. No, no one was there.

She was alone.

Somehow, as strange and egoistical as it may sound, the thought of Jane being just as lonely and forlorn as she was had comforted her for the last years. It was unfair and mean, but knowing that she wasn't the only one to suffer this way was a good and comforting one. This loneliness, this forlornness and despair was what they both had irrevocably in common. This was what they bonded over, what bound them together and helped them understand the other even without words. Their crappy and miserable pasts, the hearth-breaking losses of their loved ones and the struggle to keep up with the expectations of daily live was what held them together.

Or so she had thought.

Now Jane was sitting at home and though the blood red, creepy smile was still looming in his bedroom, he wasn't alone anymore. This night laughter and chatter would fill his illuminated house. There would be different pairs of footsteps echoing around the white painted walls, the delicious and mouth-watering smell of self-prepared food would waver around and finally Jane would be able to spend the evening and the next morning in the presence of his daughter.

He wouldn't be alone this night.

Looking at her plain white walls, Lisbon could feel the prickling of tears threatening to fall. Hard and painful needles pierced her hearth, as Jane's face, with his soft blue eyes and his light blond curls, looking eternally too beautiful was crossing her mind. A lovable smile was spreading over his face, causing a lump in her throat to cause her difficulties to breathe.

It was a memory that flashed through her mind. After her mental breakdown and the failed attempts to prove her innocence with Jane's hypnosis, Jane had come by to her home to propose his perfect plan of a trap. She had been doubtful at first, but like always, as (awkward) as it was, Jane had been right. As always had he helped her close another case and even clear her name.

This evening he had visited her at home. Without knocking or ringing the bell, he had entered. Searching through the different, dark and empty room, until he finally found her in her bedroom. She hadn't noticed him enter, as she was too absorbed in her emotional turmoil. Big, salty tears were running down her cheeks, her lips were trembling while her whole body was lightly shaking. Upon further looking, Jane had been able to see her lightly flushed cheeks and her bright red, puffy eyes.

He had been there for her. Without his usual flippant and teasing words, Jane had sunk down next to her on her bed, an arm draped around her shoulder, the other stroking small and soft circles on her back. Minutes passed with none of them speaking, the silence only to interrupted by her sobs and sniffing. When she had finally calmed down enough to breath properly, she had shakingly spilled her guts to Jane. And being the sensitive mentalist he was supposed to be, Jane hadn't said a word but listened closely to what she was saying. At some point during her speech, her eyes had dropped closed and she had finally been claimed by sleep.

Since then their relationship had changed. She felt they were more connected then before, as if a silent agreement and understanding suddenly had befallen them. Jane would still be his usual, insane, rule breaking self, though with the difference he would now try to cause as less pain and trouble for Lisbon as possible, while Lisbon would stick up for him in every situation possible. They opened up more to each other, would trust the other more than before and finally would even deepen their relationship. The way things were going, Lisbon had every hope that one day they would finally be in love.

The prospect of Jane abandoning his wish for revenge and the idea of him confessing his love for her, was what made Lisbon going. Every day she waited for him to make the first step, to see his mind blowing smile, one especially for her, to feel his hand lingering a tad longer than supposed on her skin and to see him entering her office more often than usual, made her hearth speed up in excitement. She could feel it, his emotions towards her were changing. It was just a matter of time.

But now she could only dream of it.

As she arrived in front of Jane's home, Lisbon took several deep breaths to calm her down. The fierce fire of anger, the feeling of betrayal and lies and finally the hearth ache of seeing her wished for future together with the man she loved so deeply, was making her feel dizzy and light-headed. If she didn't keep a firm grip on her emotions, she was sure she was going to do something she was going to regret deeply in future. With trembling hands, Lisbon reached for the doorknob and carefully opened the door. Surprisingly the door opened without any problem and lead Lisbon into a huge entrance hall.

Her hearth was beating erratically and sweat was starting to appear on her forehead, as Lisbon tried to remain calm and take in her surroundings. It was too dark to actually see anything, but through a slight crack in a door, she could see dim light emitting from a room. With her heavily pounding hearth, Lisbon sneaked forward to the door, placed her shaking hand on the doorknob and then closed her eyes.

Gulping, Lisbon realized that with this action, she could very well damage what was left of their joined future. Depending on who was in this room and how the person was going to react, it could very well be the last time she was ever going to see him.

Without making a single noise, the door opened, letting Lisbon enter. The room was considerably brighter than the entrance hall and therefore it blinded Lisbon temporally. When she finally was able to see again, her eyes widened at the sight that greeted her.

Jane was sitting in one of the chairs, a cup of steaming hot tea in his hands, a plate with a small sandwich in front of him and the newspaper in the other had. This it was nothing shocking. The sight of him sitting there topless with nothing more than a pair of dark blue pyjama trousers covering his body. She had expected and braced herself against every other possibility, even the one of Jane's daughter greeting her, but this had never crossed her tired and troubled mind.

Though she couldn't remember it, she must have made some kind of noise, probably a rather sharp intake of breath, as Jane looked up from his newspaper. His eyes widened to a comically size, as his gaze fell on a more than a little worked up Lisbon. Her hair was unmade, her clothes, the same she had worn at work that day, were ruffled and her face teary and stained. Slowly, his eyes never leaving his unsuspected visitor, Jane placed the cup of tea back on table, his newspaper already lying on the floor.

"Lisbon, what are you doing here?"

Through the turmoil of emotions, Lisbon could make out the softness, the worry and the distinct tone of surprise and confusion tainting his voice. His bright blue eyes were staring at her in confusion, no traces of anger, hurt, betrayal could be traced. Hadn't Lisbon known better, she would have sworn nothing was out of the ordinary. But Lisbon knew better and the knowledge that Jane was able to pull such an innocent face after everything that had happened, only fuelled her anger and the biting feeling of betrayal. God only knew what this man had further hidden from her.

"I know you've got a living daughter, Jane."

* * *

**A/N:** First of all, thanks for the reviews. I appreciate your interest in this story very much. The same goes for all of you who put this story on alert or favorite modus. Thanks a lot!

Now, please make a poor author`s day and leave a review. Comments, questions, ideas for the plotline and suggestions are very much appreciated and will be answered. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 2

**A Man's Dark and Deathly Secrets**

**Author: **FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Mentalist or any of these characters. Nor do I get money for this story. I just wrote it out of fun and because my muse demanded, I did so.

**Summary: **Patrick Jane was a mystery. His secrets are well kept, had never once been revealed and weren't to ever be. However, one tiny mistake can destroy a perfectly developed construct, leaving his most precious treasure in the dangerous open. Jisbon and OCs.

**Genre: **Romance/ Drama

**Warnings:** This story will be AU. Seeing as Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon aren't in a relationship and probably won't ever be, I consider it safe to be AU. Furthermore there will be some smaller and one or two bigger changes in Patrick Jane's family history.

I am so sorry for not having updated any sooner! But, you probably all know, real life can be quite tricky sometimes.

* * *

"I know you've got a living daughter, Jane."

She didn't know what else she could have said to cause such a number of emotions on Jane's face. He was shocked, she could see it so clearly, even though he tried to hide it immediately. His eyes were wider open than normal, his skin had taken a lightly ashen colour and finally his whole body went rigid. He may be a master in hiding and controlling his emotions, but once confronted so unexpected, even Jane had problems to keep his emotions in check.

"Come again, Lisbon?"

Jane was leaning back into his chair half relaxed. His stiff shoulders loosened bit by bit, his skin became slightly more looking alive and finally the twinkling expression in his eyes returned. He must have decided she was playing a trick on him, Lisbon realized. His lightly teasing smile and his relaxed posture were firm indicators for this. And had Lisbon really been bluffing, she would have immediately believed him. But she knew better, she had heard it with her own ears. There was no way he could talk her out of it.

"You heard me, Jane. I know you have a daughter and she is alive."

Nothing was said, but in response, Jane's jaw formed a firm line and his eyes grew harder. Instead of denying her existence, a move Lisbon had very much expected, Jane opted for saying nothing at all. His eyes grew far away, as he was contemplating what to do next. With time passing by, his face became blank and stoic, when he regained control over his emotions. He didn't move, no trembling, no shaking, no moving of hands, feet or facial parts. Jane was just sitting there, surrendering to his fate.

"How do you know?"

His voice was low, powerless, defeated even. He sounded as if he had failed an important task, as if letting someone else know of his daughter's existence was going to ruin him. There was so much resignation and defeat in his eyes and his posture, his eyes void of emotions, his shoulders slumped and his hands folded. Lisbon didn't know why, but this image caused a sudden angry fire to spread in her chest. Hurt together with the feeling of betrayal and rejection were bubbling in her, making her vision blurry.

"I heard how she greeted you. There is no mistaking in a sentence such as this "Long time no see, Dad?", isn't it, Jane?"

She saw him sigh more than she heard it. It was the distinct way his mouth slightly opened and his eyes dropped as the low blow of air escaped his lungs. There was nothing in his eyes. His normally ever so expressive eyes, the doors or better windows to his soul, were empty. No feeling, no emotion was crossing them. It was, as if someone had switched the engines of and now the power was running low.

"Is this all you have to say? Is there nothing more you wish to add to this little "oh" you uttered?"

Her voice was sharp like a knife, piercing his skin and cutting deep into his already troubled and hurting heart. She saw him flinch lightly from her tone of voice and moreover the accusing tone lacing her voice. But to be brutally honest, she didn't care. She had been hurting for the last several hours to a point where she had been laying crying and sobbing in her bed, alone at her home. He had made her feel this way, he had been the one to hurt and break her in such a brutal way. It was only to fair his suffered at least a bit of what she had been through.

"You come to us, the CBI, you come to me claiming that your family has been wiped out by Red John. You come to me and tell me that you have nothing else to live for, that only your need and thirst for revenge is giving you the strength to live on. You act like the lonely warrior who has to keep on moving or else he will be doomed. You acted upon the compassion the team provided you with, I provided you with. We allowed you freedoms and liberties, because we were thinking you needed them, because they would help you get better."

Though she knew, it wasn't dignified and not the way she acted normally, Lisbon wasn't able to suppress the harsh laughter and the angry snort that escaped her mouth. She couldn't see herself in a mirror, but she was fairly sure her eyes were glittering angrily and her cheeks were reddish tone due to all the anger floating through her.

"But that was a lie wasn't it? Your family isn't dead, Jane. Your wife and daughter may be, but they are not all. Your second daughter, though I'm quite sure she has to be the older of your two daughters, is alive. For the last years, you have been lying to all of us. You betrayed us by keeping such vital things as the existence of your daughter from us. You betrayed yourself by being dishonest with us. But worst of all, you betrayed your daughter by being a horrible father to her."

In retrospect Lisbon would agree this had been a too low blow. But right now, she didn't care. She didn't care for the way Jane's eyes widened in utter shock and disbelieve, the way he sucked in his breath sharply and the way his hands cramped into the table. No, she clearly didn't care for all the signs of distress and emotional hurt Jane was emitting. She had been hurt most cruelly and that was why Jane had to hurt the same way.

"You leave her alone, not caring for her. Do you think that is what makes a good father? To leave behind ones daughter? To loose ones grip on reality in such a way you have to spend time in an asylum to relearn what it means to live? You are a horrible father, Jane, a really horrib-"

"Stop!"

Jane's booming voice cut of harshly Lisbon's horrible and unfair rant. His breath came in heavy and troubled pants, his face looked ragged, as if he had been slapped several times hard across the cheeks. He was standing up tall, though neither of them could remember when exactly this had happened. With a furiously trembling hand, Jane pointed at her accusingly.

"Stop it, Lisbon. Just stop it."

Though his voice was anything but loud and booming, Teresa unintentionally flinched. His low, ragged voice was filled with so much emotion, such raw and never once before expressed emotions, it made her hurt. There was agony, hearth wrecking pain and so much desperation were lacing his normally smooth and aloof voice. She could see his lips trembling, his eyes widening and moistening.

"You have no idea, Lisbon, you have absolutely no idea what it feels like."

A harsh and dry laughter escaped his cruelly smiling lips, forcing Lisbon to gulp. She didn't know how or what she had caused this, but this very moment Jane look so insane she was fearing she would have to call the police or the ambulance even to let him get shipped away.

"You have no idea what it feels like to return home, heart filled with want and need for your loving and caring family, though a hint of sadness always come by with it, as your oldest daughter is away at boarding school and you miss her so much. You have no idea what it feels like to smile at the very thought of their happy faces and the carefree laughter greeting you, only to come face to face with an eerie silent house and a notice written in blood red hanging at your bedroom door."

Slowly Jane had taken his accusingly pointing hand down and let himself sink down into his kitchen chair. In the background they could hear a door opening and closing and then the unmistaken sound of water running into a sink. His daughter must have gotten up, Teresa realized. She would have sworn Jane would send her away as soon as she was awake, but he didn't. He seemed to be caught in a horrible memory of his, a memory she had set free and his only chance of liberation was to talk it from his soul.

"This fear, this soul crushing and heart wrenching fear, that consumes you alive. The horror overcoming your very being, clouding your senses. Your trembling hands, refusing to commit to your will, being nothing more than useless limbs trembling against your side. Your eyes, wide open but unable to focus, unable to see anything. And finally your mind, screaming at you to wake up from this horrible dream. But it is no dream. This, _this_ is reality and you have to face. You have to open the door, confirm your horrible suspicions."

The water was turned out, only to be running down again. Lisbon wanted to do something. Her heart was racing and she could feel the desperation that broke free of Jane in huge waves, as if it was her own. She wanted to ease the pain she had so unthinkingly and uncaringly caused, but she couldn't move. All she could do was listen to Jane retell his horrible, ever lasting nightmare.

"You open the door and though you don't want to see it, your eyes are glued to the scene in front of you. This face, this blood red, smiling face on the perfectly white wand is glued into your mind. You can't close your eyes without seeing it. With brutal force you manage to distract your eyes from it, but the minute you do, you wish you hadn't. There is blood, so much blood. On the walls, on the floor, on the windows and finally on their clothes. Shakingly you walk forward to have a look at your family, to see, whether there is something you might be able to do for them. But the ones laying in the beds aren't your family anymore. They are clumps of flesh, brutally cut and staked. There are holes and cuts everywhere, you can see the blood slowly creeping out of them. You gulp and take a look at their faces, but you wish again you didn't. Their faces, normally calm, happy and peaceful, are screwed up in horror. They were dying a horrible, painful and slow death."

Finally Jane's voice broke. Silent streams of tears were now running down his cheeks, making his eyes become bloodshot. His lips, like his hands and his voice were trembling. He couldn't take much more, but sadly it didn't seem as if he had finished yet.

"And then you suddenly remember the words written on the notice. They didn't have to die. Red John didn't kill them because he needed to. They were killed because you overstepped the boundaries. You, in a stupid moment of egomania and self love, provoked the one serial killer hunted by the whole state. Because you couldn't get enough fame soon enough, your family had to pay the price. You were at fault. Hadn't you spoken so full of yourself to the media, Red John wouldn't have had seen need to kill them. You are at fault, only you. You got your family killed."

The water was turned of again, only to replace the silence by the sound of a hair dryer. Jane's eyes were still staring far into nothingness. Like in trance, Jane talked and talked, never looking at Lisbon or realizing, what he was doing to her.

"You killed your own family. Your heart stops to beat, your lungs won't work for you anymore. You feel like being on fire but at the same time freezing to death. Your vision blurs and everything starts to sway. You know you should call the police, the ambulance, someone. But you can't. The only thing you can think of is the mantra replaying in your mind, eating you alive. You killed them. You are at fault. You killed your family."

Through his trembling lips, Jane suddenly managed to produce a weak, shaky smile.

"But then you suddenly realize and a horrible thought it is. You killed your family. Red John promised to keep an eye on you. But your wife and daughter aren't the only family you have got. You have a daughter, a wonderful, beautiful, intelligent and innocent daughter, sitting far away in her room in her boarding school, waiting patiently for you to collect her for the next holidays. Red John doesn't know of her. Nobody does. Besides your wife and younger daughter, nobody knew of her existence. You have to keep her safe, have to make sure Red John doesn't find out about her. She is all you have left."

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued between them. In the background the hair drier was still making its recognisable sound. Jane's ragged breath and his trembling had decreased slightly. His tale must have been finished, Teresa realized. But it had ended at a strange place. Why was his daughter not present at the fateful night? Not that Teresa minded, this way she had at least survived, but why wasn't she there in the first place? Wasn't she welcomed?

"Stop it, Lisbon."

His voice startled her. Gone was the despair and anger and desperation. It had been replaced by a sudden startling softness that surprised her. His eyes were searching through hers, understanding her very thoughts, but she didn't care. All she could think of was this soft, caring smile and the loving attitude he suddenly emitting. But not for her, but for his daughter.

"Stop it, Lisbon. I can understand your thoughts as if you were saying them out loud. You are wrong. My daughter was away this fateful night not because we didn't love her, but the contrary. She was away because we loved her. My little girl, Alyssa, was always a very shy and quiet one. She never associated much with others, would only ever sit on her chair painting something or reading a book. My wife and I got scared a little. Her fathering hadn't been planned, but we loved and I love her nonetheless. When she went to primary, one day her teacher would suddenly call us. We feared for the worst, her having to be send away for her lack of ability to socialise, but what she told us surprised us even more. She was to be send away, but not because of her lack of socialising skills. She was to attend a school for highly gifted children."

A soft and fond smile suddenly graced his lips, making Lisbon's stomach twist painfully. It had been fate, she realized. Hadn't Jane's daughter - Alyssa, if she remembered correctly - not been highly gifted, than she wouldn't have to leave and Jane would have been able to spend more time with her. But she would have died the same cruel death as her mother and sister. It was luck, in a very twisted way.

"We never told anyone about her, as most of the time she would spend at the institute, only coming home for the holidays. Everybody thought we only had one daughter. It was okay with everyone and nobody expected something else. Had we told them that we had another daughter, but eleven years older than the younger one, people would have reacted strangely. So we let it be. It was okay for us, for all of us, even my older daughter. And after my wife's and younger daughter's death, I kept it this way, to keep her safe. We even let her surname be and didn't change it. That is why she still goes by her mother's maiden name."

The sound of the hair drier ceased, causing Lisbon unintentionally to stiffen up. She knew Jane. He wouldn't want her to be there, when his daughter came down to have breakfast. He would want her to spare the knowledge and the participation of the fight between them. She wanted to tell him something, but she would have to hurry, or else Jane would just throw her out.

"The one year I spend at the asylum was the hardest for me. My daughter had to stay at the institute, not being allowed to visit me as she officially wasn't a relative of mine and this would have drawn Red John attention on her. I had to make it through this year without knowing how my daughter, the one thing in my life to make me going at that moment, was doing. It was hard, Lisbon, so very hard. But I had to do it. I had and have to keep her safe. I may not be many things, Lisbon, but one thing I know I'm for sure. I'm not a horrible and irresponsible father."

The last sentence caused Lisbon to wince. She knew she had hurt and insulted Jane gravely and it would took lots of hard work on her side to make it up to him. But he had to understand her side. It surely hadn't been easy for him, but it wasn't just fine for her either. He had to understand why she had been acting the way she had. She just hoped, it wasn't to late for her to tell him.

"Jane, please listen, I'm sor-"

But as soon as Teresa had opened her mouth to apologize and to justify her actions, a sharp motion of Jane's hand caused her to stop. Jane's eyes, though full of understanding, love, devotion and caring while he had been talking about his daughter, had now become eerie cold and politely distant. It was, as if they had never met before and were just about to get to know each other, but more on a professional way. The subtle rejection caused Lisbon's heart to shatter and her eyes to unwillingly moisten with unshed tears.

"It would be better for you to go now, Lisbon. My daughter is about to finish getting ready for the day and I want to have a nice morning sharing breakfast with her without any kind of trouble. I will be there punctual for work, but I would prefer to start the day with my daughter without any other presence."

The way Jane was talking to her, as if she was nothing more than a colleague who had come by unannounced, caused Teresa's throat to tighten, effortlessly cutting of her ability to speak. Even after gulping several times, she was still unable to utter even a single word. With tears barely kept at bay and slightly trembling lips, Teresa weakly nodded her head in approval and slowly turned around to go. She had messed up, she realised, and this time maybe even for good.

"I will see you at work then, Lisbon."

Not daring herself to answer his farewell, Lisbon just went to the door and turned the doorknob. Inwardly she was berating herself for her idiocy and her lack of proper planning. Had she slept over the matter and then thought about what she wanted to tell him, before finally confronting him in a more neutral place than his home, things would have certainly gone different. Now she just could hope that things would fix themselves and work wouldn't bee too tense. Just as she was about to close the door, she could hear footsteps coming down the stairs, the happy morning greeting of Jane and his daughter's content and exhilarating laughter.

With a painful ache in her heart, Lisbon finally realized that life wasn't fair.

* * *

**A/N:** I am so sorry for not having updated any sooner. I don't know whether anybody is truly following this story anymore. But I still felt like I had to continue with it. So, seeing as my muse was nice enough to come by and help me with another chapter, here I am.

As always reviews are very much welcomed, as are questions, suggestions, ideas and constructive criticism. Please, help a writer with improving her writing style.


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